George Gordon Byron

George Gordon Byron

1,000 карма
United Kingdom (Great Britain)

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A spirit passed before me:
I
The face of immortality unveiled-- Deep sleep came down on every eye save mine--And there it stood,--all formless--but divine:
Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake;
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I had a dream, which was not all a dream
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth    Swung blind and blackening in the moon­less air;
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When Time, or soon or late, shall
The dreamless sleep that lulls the dead,
Oblivion
may thy languid
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Strahan,
Tonson,
Lintot of the times,   Patron and publisher of rhymes,   For thee the bard up Pindus climbs,         My Murray
To thee, with hope and terror dumb,   The unfledged MS
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Bob Southey
You're a poet—Poet-laureate, And representative of all the race; Although 'tis true that you turn'd out a Tory at Last—yours has lately been a common case; And now, my Epic Renegade
what are ye at
With all the Lakers, in...
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Oh ye
who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland,
France,
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The roses of love glad the garden of life, Though nurtured 'mid weeds dropping pestilent dew,
Till time crops the leaves with unmerciful knife, Or prunes them for ever, in love's last adieu
In vain, with endearments, we soothe the sad he...
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